The Melody of Beauty
by iExpress
Summary: Ichinose Kotomi learns playing a new melody.


"Yo, Kotomi-chan!"

"Hello, Okazaki-kun."

The teen casually flopped onto the nearby chair in the space of the still-in-the-making Theater Club, glancing at his friends' back. The girl didn't make any sort of effort to turn around or greet him properly, busy tuning the strings of the violin, so preoccupied with the task that her head was down low, nose barely a few inches away from the book on the desk-

Tomoya cocked his head, confused.

"Can you do both at the same time?" He questioned. The girl responded too quietly for him to fully hear what she had said but he caught something along the lines of 'tuning instructions' and he realized she was reading up on the instrument in her lap. _That'_ _s_ _a genius for you_ , he figured and wondered shortly if the genius of a man truly depended on their ability to multitask or whether it was popularized as such.

"How's the violin going, anyway? I heard you were getting lessons from Nishina."

"Yes. Rie-san had taught me quite a few valuable lessons." Kotomi quietly replied, finally closing the book and fully dedicating herself to fixing the strings.

Okazaki couldn't help but feel sorry for the leader of the Choir Club and automatically started the drama-fated process of wondering if there was anything he could to to help the poor girl. ( _Somewhere in the back of his head, he also wondered if there was a name for this weird thing he had for helping pretty girls. Knigh_ _t_ _-on-the-white-horse syndrome wouldn't sound too bad, he figured. Then again, it's acronym would sound like 'Kowhs', which vaguely resembled 'cows' or even 'kouhai's' if you were into Japanese_ _or some otherworldly language_ _and willing to str_ _e_ _tch it that far._ _But we digress._ )  
Giving violin lessons probably reminded Nishina of her own violin career that had unfortunately ended much too early. He could relate more to her situation than that of any other girl- that is, student, in school and admired the way she still managed to function, so much unlike him who had since went down the path of a school delinquent, like every other dull main character. He wondered if she had been suffering as little as she let on…

Okazaki's mind already wandered to the classroom of the Choir Club, wondering if there was something he could help Rie with, yet another sad story of high school days, waiting to be uncovered; a sorrowful heart aching to be aided; a girl waiting for her fifteen minutes of fame that was supposed to be guaranteed to her in a harem setting... then Ichinose Kotomi spoke, her words sounding eerily a lot as if they were directed at his thoughts.

"Do not."

He looked over.

She was on her bare feet, looking out the window but still not looking at him. The violin swayed slowly in her hand. Okazaki frowned.

"Sorry, what?"

"Nagisa-chan. Tomoyo-chan. Kyou-chan. Ryou-chan. Sunohara-kun. Fuko-chan."

"Who?"

"Those and many more you never met, names of people whose lives you touched. Names of people whose feeling vary from friendly. Names of women who want to take you away."

"Sunahara too? I knew it."

"Too many."

Figuring there was some sort of joke attempt he wasn't understanding, Okazaki smiled meekly. "I don't really get it but imagining Sunohara as an ookama really is-"

"I really, really like you, Tomoya-kun." She turned around and Okazaki barely suppressed a scream. "I will make sure, that I'm the only one who will ever be able to show that."

Ichinose Kotomi, her eyes glowing with a glow of yellow that was not of this world and sporting a grin that seemed like it was impossible to be formed by any normal human face, raised the violin to her shoulder. It took Okazaki one horrible moment, minutes too late to realize the book she had been reading was titled " _Nekonomikon_ ".

And it was not even a misspelling.

As if in dreadful anticipation, the world seemed to tremble, the very foundations of school, the ground, the center of the earth itself shivering just one moment before Ichinose Kotomi lowered the bow to the strings of her instrument of death.

What came out of the violin was not the already familiar, ear-piercing, glass shattering pitch of the misused instrument. It was a melody, a coherent, audible melody of a skilled violin player... but far worse than any sounds Okazaki had ever heard.

Shrieks were in the air and Okazaki knew, inherently, as if the music spoke to him, it was the collective sound of the human doom.

The school crumbled around him and suddenly he was standing in the ruins of the Earth, nothing but sky- dark, red, gray, yellow sky above him, spinning, spinning, in the rhythm of Kotomi's horrible melody. The city around him was gone and just as soon so were the rumbles, so was the dust, the trees, the air, every single tiny remain of what was human, including his clothes and his body… but it did not hurt. Okazaki closed his eyes.

When he came to…

 _…_ _he is in a world that had begun a long time ago (or far in the future?), in the world he entered after (or before?) he had died._

 _He is nothing more than a soul in a junk-assembled body that doesn't need to suffer the fragility, the burden of being human. It feels fine. It **is** fine._

 _He is standing in a wide, wide field (world?) of gold and blue and lights, a girl next to him. He doesn't know her name. He doesn't know **his** name. He believes he doesn't need to. Does he need to know anything here?_

 _"Day before yesterday, I saw a rabbit," he hears, knows the words are one of the few things he'll remember forever, soft-voiced, shy, dreamy-like, "and yesterday, a deer, and today, you."_

 _He remembers the names. He'll forget again because it is important to know just who and not what the name is. Still, he tries to hold on to it for as much as he can because it makes for pretty sounds._

 _"How do you feel… Tomoya?" He knows she has struggle remembering too, as if a sentence without one of their names in it might send them into eternal oblivion. He is not sure how does he answer, because he knows he is missing a mouth._

 _… But that isn't important anymore, is it? That is the problem for a human body. Not for him. Not here._

 _"Like... I'm not... human, anymore." He says with a bit of a struggle, just to make it a challenge and it is the single most wonderful thing in the world he feels._

 _To not emote. To not need. To exist in the world that was consisted of beauty. It is sad. It is beautiful. There is nothing to do. And he is not alone in this eternal garden of peace._

 _"Thank you… Kotomi." He tries to hold onto the name, only to realize it is not important. He'll forget and remember again. Such is the circle in this place._

 _The two sit down. She plays the violin – this time, beautifully so. He listens, leaning against her. They both smile._

 _All is well._


End file.
